


exhausted

by sootcharlie



Category: soothouse
Genre: Fluff, Gen, No Beta I'm boutta die like SootHouse, Platonic Cuddling, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 16:49:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28709985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sootcharlie/pseuds/sootcharlie
Summary: wilbur's (platonic) love language is touch..so maybe he's been touch-starved for JUST a bit, that's alright
Relationships: Wilbur Soot & Charlie Soot
Comments: 3
Kudos: 51





	exhausted

**Author's Note:**

> this has no real plot, i just wanted to write wilbur and charlie friendship  
> also writers block has struck hard so if you have any wilbur-centric soothouse prompts please spare them

wilbur missed touch.

if he were to describe it, it was his entire love language. arms wrapped around him, holding him just that tight enough so that he could be picked up and swayed around, gentle pats in his hair or a hand combing through otherwise messy curls.

ever since isolation protocols began, the man has noticed that he's been feeling more and more reserved. he's always secluded in his room, away from his friends, away from the world itself. he pretends that he's fine when he wraps his arms around himself for the fifth time that day in an effort of simulating a touch from another human being.

it was never enough, because of course it wasn't. the feeling of his own arms was familiar, and didn't envelop his body in the warmth he'd like it to.

so of course, it was no shock that the man would be surprised when he heard a sudden knock at his door. right, charlie was moving back in today. it's been so long since they exchanged messages about the whole ordeal.

wilbur would be lying if he said it was a few days ago. charlie reminded him about it yesterday.

"hey!" the musician greeted with a smile, backing up from the door in slight fear of charlie doing their usual greeting which resulted in a hug. he didn't think he'd be ready for it.

and then a hand was on his shoulder, and he was flinching back.

"shit-"he muttered, letting out a hasty apology after seeing the concerned look on the mans face. a few seconds of silence until wilbur cleared his throat, looking at charlie with a slight raise of eyebrow. a conversation change, anything to get what just happened away from the current conversation.

"are.. are you alright?" charlie asked, breaking the silent tension between the two of them. wilbur ran a hand through his hair, nervously looking around, clearing his throat.

"yeah, yeah- of course! just exhausted, you know. the usual." he said, trying to make it sound as convincing as possible.

he's played ghostbur, he's played an editor, so lying to his friend that he was totally fine and not terrified of touch would be easy! 

\--unless your voice cracks and the exhaustion in your eyes is way too evident to show that this is just some kind of act.

"..the usual shouldn't involve you jumping away from my touch and looking like you're going to pass out on the floor, just saying." charlie said, with a slight laugh ending off his sentence in an effort to lighten the mood. it worked, at least. it didn't feel like it was too tense now. sure, you could still cut through the tension with a knife, but it wasn't as bad. 

he didnt know how much longer he could put up with this act for.

wilbur just let out a groan and looked at charlie with a desperate look of'i am so exhausted.' luckily for him, the blue-texted man took the hint and immediately set down his bag, grabbing the musician's hand. the other unconsciously leaned closer into his friend, not knowing until he could feel his head practically resting on the others shoulder.

he pulled back with a small yelp, immediately breaking out into multiple apologies.

"fuck, uh, i'm sorry, that must've been really awkward, i can, like, stop holding your hand, or we can- uh-" his sentence was cut off with a lighthearted chuckle from charlie, who was just looking at him with a slight look of amusement.

"wil, you're fine. i know you're exhausted and just miss touch. it's been pretty obvious, dude." 

his face flushed red at that. his friend actually cares, he's actually been noticing tell-tale signs from him. 

he realizes they had stopped in the middle of the living room for that conversation, and when he spots the couch, he lets out a yelp as charlie takes the lead, sitting down on the couch first before pulling the musician close to his chest.

wilbur yawned, slightly curling into the touch. _man, chat was not lying about me being a dogboy._

the blue-texted man let out a content sigh, running a hand through familiar messy brown-colored curls. wilbur tilted his head back to feel more of the warmth, letting charlie pull him closer with his other free arm. 

he felt himself dozing off, exhaustion of the last few days finally catching up with him.

the last thing he felt before fully letting sleep take over were arms pulling his slightly limp body closer to their chest. 

"night, wil."


End file.
